Posted by I once worked at Trader Joe’s. During my career transition from action sports music/marketing/publicist guy to whatever this thing is I do now (social work management?) for two years, in order to have health insurance with a kid on the way and have some kind of income (and a 10% discount on groceries) I took this job that I still, to this day, say was my favorite of all time. The only job I can remember having where when I left the store, I didn’t have to think about work, let alone answer emails at 8:49pm on a Sunday after driving 450 miles (this hastily-written treatise is an interlude from exactly that).
A year or so after starting with the company, one morning I was working in the frozen section and this guy who I’d worked with a lot and lived in my neighborhood was next to me stocking bags of frozen chicken and out of nowhere, he turns to me and says “you know, it would be really nice to be your friend but you wont let anyone be that.” He dropped his box of chicken and walked away. There I was, shell-shocked by a moment of revelation on the forever journey that is self-awareness.
I acknowledge I am a difficult person. If you’ve ever heard my podcast, read my blog(s) or just spent any time with me, I have things I am passionate about that I will expound upon mercilessly and much to the chagrin to whomever brought up said thing, but I absolutely abhor small talk. I have confidence that for better or worse, runs along the bleeding edge of arrogance regularly and is always tinged with nihilism. I am quickly dismissive of people or relationships with people that I don’t find satisfying, and I am perfectly comfortable if people treat me the same way. Well, most people. If it looks like I am analyzing something for weakness, rest assured I am. I can be cruel with words (and sometimes actions) to people I love. Topping this chart of unbeatable things that make me a totally fucked up person to spend significant time with, I have moderate grade depression and body dysmorphia.
I am not proud of any of it.
So on the first night at this year’s Camp when Corey said “I really feel like I had to win you over to be your friend” it felt like I was being boxed up in a time machine to 2008 working the frozen aisle with Kyle. It held up a funhouse-sized mirror to one of my notable character flaws contributing to my overall complications in this already complicated human experience. I am misanthropic by nature. I enjoy people, but from a third party perspective. I love their stories, I just don’t want to participate in them. The rare person that cuts through to that and gets to my core and makes me feel…I don’t fucking know “things” I guess, is either completely unfortunate to now have that designation, or has the potential to improve my life markedly or destroy it I guess because it’s so rare. Becareful with me.
As a result of being difficult, I don’t have a lot of friends. I will admit to having a socially-necessary job that I am exceptionally good at, but I have also spent months of my spare time in the winter tuning out chaotic noise of the outside world, addicted to a soccer video game and spending hours in my basement on a persistent nihilistic binge, disengaging from lots and lots of things I care about, including snowboarding and (less important to a massive degree) social relationships. Taking care of both my physical and mental health falls too far down the priorities ladder.
Camp is the kryptonite to the bad habits, behaviors, and shitty human being I can be when I have traveled too deep in my own head, which is unfortunately a lot of the time. Camp forces me into new relationships, creates new social dynamics for me that push me to be less of an asshole, not because I must be, but because I end up -wanting- to be. Every single year, Camp forces me to self-reflect, grow, and try to rectify those parts of my personality. Someone much smarter than I could probably do a better analysis of the social engineering aspect (copious amounts of wine probably helps) that creates this dynamic, but all these people – both the campers and the residents of Bear Valley – do the part of improving my life markedly.
I spent a couple of hours crying in my car today when I left Camp. There are a lot of reasons mixed in with this but I think the main one is that it’s the one place I have in my life where I am taken out of my comfortable zone of non-participatory social interaction and I am held upside down and shaken until some of those bad things fall out, I let my guard down a bit and for a brief glimpse of time, I feel like I have a shot at being a normal person with normal friends. Maybe even one that can do small talk.
Thanks Corey (and Kyle, wherever you are) and everyone else who contributed to my brief interlude of social happiness. Let’s hope the growth sticks.